


Always Here

by Stivvy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV Lydia, POV Stiles, Stydia, light fluff, pretty close to canon, snuggles, some cheese
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:46:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stivvy/pseuds/Stivvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia are being held prisoner at Eichen House by Brunski. And....things after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I continue to be inspired by all you amazing writers, so here's another tiny scene I've been thinking about since the season ended. Sad things aren't moving forward for my babies Stiles and Lydia,but I can be patient. Sometimes.  
> Anyway, enjoy! Please comment?

The lump was stuck somewhere in her throat between her chest and mouth, sitting calmly and waiting for a swallow. For some reason it was failing her- biology, of all things- but she just couldn't get it to go away.  
"What's...happening?" She managed to mumble somewhat coherently.  
Listening intently to the breathing somewhere beside her, Lydia waited for an answer. When it didn't come she found her voice.  
"Stiles? Where are we? What's happening?" Trying not to panic she held her breath and counted. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. The darkness was stifling and her eyes would not adjust. She was finding it hard to breathe. Six. Five.  
"Mmhfff" She heard. "L..Lyd...Lydia?" He groaned. Then louder, "Where are you? Are you okay??" The ropes pulled at her chest as he heaved forward, trying to break the constraints. "I'm...I..I think I'm okay. Are you?" She didn't want him to know about the frightening sinking feeling in her gut, or the sharp tearing pain in her wrists from the cuffs.  
"Ungh," he grunted, "we have to move...we need to..get out. Fuck. Why did I think I could trust that psycho?! What a brilliant idea. Ya, let's go back to the most messed up place in this town and get help from the one person who wouldn't mind seeing me dead for no reason other than his own sadistic pleasure. Damn it Stiles!" He rambled on in his anger, the helplessness of their situation starting to take full form in his mind.  
"Shhh it's okay," Lydia sniffed, licking a salty tear from her upper lip, "Just breathe, Stiles. We're still here. We're in one piece. It'll be okay...." Knowing very well it would definitely not be okay, she tried to push the feeling down along with the lump. "How in holy hell will this be okay, Lydia??" Lowering his voice to a frantic whisper, Stiles clenched his fists over and over, willing the adrenaline pumping through his brain out and into his fingertips. "I can't believe I'm here again," he mumbled, a defeated edge to his voice, "this can't be happening. I won't lose this time. I won't lose you..." The last few words were a sigh, barely audible but strangely determined.  
Lydia could feel an odd creeping sensation move it's way up her pelvis and into her chest, settling itself lightly around her heart and then pushing down, surely a bad sign but now was not the time to think about it.  
"Stiles I...I don't know what to do. I...I can't lose you either." Hardly sure she said the words out loud, Lydia quickly recovered, "I , I mean I can't lose any of you. Scott, Kira...we've lost too much already. We can't lose hope too! Come on. Come on Stiles we can do this, it's you and me remember? We can do anything."  
"It's you and me.." he whispered, "you and me...Lydia?"  
"Yes?" She could hear the thumping from his chest so loudly it threatened to match the heaviness in her own.  
"I can't lose you."  
"I know," she answered softly, "you'd go out of your freaking mind". Stiles could hear the small smile on her lips as somewhere inside he realized how connected they truly were. This girl knew him more than anybody ever had, and he trusted her. He trusted her mind and her instincts and her every word, the ones she had just whispered back to him being so profoundly true.  
"I would too, you know", she continued more forcefully now, " I've been out of my mind for so long it seems never ending, but with you I feel..I feel better. I feel safe."  
With those words she took a deep breath, finally feeling the lump in her throat edge downwards.  
"Those are pretty optimistic words for someone trapped in a basement tied to a pole by a psychopath." He grinned a little, feeling lighter and slightly dazed by her confession.  
"I'd never let anything happen to you, you know that right?" Stiles' voice broke at the end.  
"It would be the end of the world before I let that happen."  
"You've made it clear before." She chose her words carefully.  
"I'm sorry if I ever..." She took a deep breath, "sorry if I ever let you doubt me."  
"What do you mean?" His voice showed his confusion, and he strained against the ropes binding them together. He wanted so badly to look at her face.  
"If you ever thought I didn't...if you ever thought I didn't care. Or wasn't there. I'm always with you, stiles. Always."  
When he didn't answer her heart stopped for an instant. She felt shuffling as his weight shifted and she felt a breeze by her wrist.  
"Stretch your fingers back," he said softly, "reach."  
She did, curling her thumb over her forefinger to stretch them towards the breeze.  
"Can you feel me? Lydia..."  
She let out a shaky whimper as her fingertips grazed his skin, and her heart beat faster and faster. "Stiles..." She whispered, tears falling faster now to the goose pimpled skin of her collarbone. "I'm here," he replied, strongly, "I'm always here."


	2. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Lydia awake in the hospital post kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how many chapters to follow...so caught up in all these other amazing stories!

The next day was worse. All thoughts of the night's terrors and blinding revelations were amplified, as Stiles tried to remember all the details that he knew his hundred mile an hour brain could hold. Meredith was the benefactor. Brunski was a serial killer who had murdered Lydia's grandmother and too many others, he had been about to...Stiles drew back from completing that thought. The flash of memory threatened to rip through his eyes like laser beams, so he held it back with a burning intensity. Still feeling like the worst nightmare he'd ever had, Stiles swallowed hard at the sound of her helpless whimper in his ears, his screams rebounding in the small space while his body thrashed in anguish against the inevitability of the end of his world. It had come too close. He had almost lost her. With a jolt of pure relief he shot up from the fetal position he had been unconsciously holding since he awoke. She wasn't. Lydia wasn't dead. That much he knew, and could even feel inside his heart as he pictured the tether bound tightly inside him with her face on it. Running his hands through his hair both instinctively and in an effort to calm the frazzled look he knew he must have, Stiles tried swinging his feet off the bed and onto the floor. It was colder than he has expected, but then again he and hospital room floors didn't have the best history. Slowly he put pressure on his legs and tried to stretch out against the tiles, reaching for the ceiling with his slender fingers, absentmindedly musing about flying out the 3rd story window. If only he had wings. If only he had something. As if he already knew deep inside of him, that something was waiting for him, right outside the door. He turned hopefully towards the knock, willing and knowing at the same time that her face would be the first one he'd see. 

It was hard to open her eyes. They were heavier than lead as Lydia willed herself awake, breathing in the sterile smell of chemicals and air freshener and hoping beyond hope that last night hadn't been real. But of course hope was fickle. That much she knew.   
Enough, she thought to herself. You're okay. You're in the hospital and he's here, somewhere. That last realization was enough to rip her eyelids from her pupils and stiffen her body to attention. "Oooowww!" She cried, as her calf muscles protested and contracted into agonizing cramps. "Holy shit that hurts...ow." Sitting up quickly she rapidly massaged her aching legs, knowing full well that all she needed to do now was walk. She needed to find him and make sure he was alright. It was almost surreal as far as she could tell. Mysteries had been solved and yet more were coming to light. Her grandmother had predicted the dead pool. Brunski had killed her. He had sold their lives for stolen cash and a power trip, and he had almost taken her own. Her grandmother had known, "don't hurt her!" She had said, "don't hurt Ariel!" From years in the past she had seen the outcome of her fears and she had sent a message. Lydia wasn't going to ignore it. The fight was not over, the dead pool still making it's way around Beacon Hills, and for some reason it all came back to her.   
Taking an extra deep breath, Lydia summoned all of her mental strength and swept her anxiety under her skin, needing nothing more than a moment of peace and safety, and she knew where she could get it. She walked out the door and into the cold hallway.

He felt her warmth even before the light from outside his room came cascading in, and he breathed in her scent deeply.   
"Lydia, oh thank god..." he sighed, letting out the constriction in his chest as he tumbled into her.   
"Hi." She spoke softly into his shoulder, taking in his shape and smells like they were the only thing keeping her on her feet. They clung to each other for minutes, though it seemed like hours, there in the doorway solid as a statue. Her green eyes starting to brim, Lydia finally found the strength the pull away so that she could look at his face. Sliding her hand gently through his chocolate hair, she could feel her heart beat more strongly as she stared into his eyes. Stiles thought to himself at that moment that there must, in fact, be a god somewhere, because angels existed right here on earth. His lips parted in a typical smirk, and Stiles let his instinct take over.   
"How does a banshee..." he began, but Lydia wasn't there to waste time with small talk.   
"Stiles," she said, putting her finger to his mouth, " shhh. I don't want to talk. Can we...can we just sit together, you know, for a little while?"  
She knew he wouldn't get the wrong idea. They were truly best friends, partners in everything, sharing a connection so deep they knew nothing about it except that it had saved both of their lives more than once.   
Stiles didn't need to answer as he wound his fingers through hers and led her towards the bed.


	3. Skin to Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying together in the hospital, Stiles and Lydia...ahem...feel each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I kinda got a little carried away with the cheese..don't hate me cuz you love it.

It creaked a little as they readjusted, their bodies aching from lying in the same spot for too long. The bed wasn't any sort of comfortable as it was, but the two teenagers occupying it had hardly noticed. Stiles slowly peeked through his lids as he felt Lydia squirm, trying to find an appropriate position for her tingling arm that had fallen asleep with her under his shoulder. Stiles felt his mind begin to wander as his body focused in on the tiny sensations that hers was causing. A slight tickling in his nose and on his lips from her freshly clean smelling hair was giving him a pleasantly warm feeling all over his face, and he closed his eyes again to breathe her in deeply. Who knows if this will ever happen again, he thought to himself, with a grin starting to play in the corners of his mouth.

The next thing his conscious self noticed was the feeling of skin on skin, skin that was hers on skin that was his. His body. Her hands, one tangled in his hair at the base of his neck, the other tucked innocently under his t-shirt, knuckles slightly raised as her fingernails lay lightly on his hipbone. At this realization Stiles suddenly faltered, and quickly tried to check his breathing, making sure it wouldn't betray his nerves. Their bodies were glued together, her left leg over his, toes snuggling under his right calf like a puppy that refuses to sleep alone. Physically Stiles had never felt so alive, so complete, as though he finally knew what life should feel like. But mentally...he tried not to let the agonizing emptiness of unrequited love ruin this perfect moment. Okay so maybe they were fully clothed and in a hospital bed, but this, Stiles would take this any day and run.

It was a weird dream she was having, but comforting. Lydia felt a firm tightness all around her, and yet it was the opposite of suffocating, holding her securely in place in what looked like a sea of emptiness. It was a bright white space, no creases or paths to be seen but a faint humming continued in her ears like a swarm of something not unlike the cicadas that infested the woods by her lake house. It started to sound like her name, murmuring, louder until it felt like the sounds were coming from her own body, and she felt it rumble deep inside her strong and low, "Lydia...Lyy...di...aaa". Clutching at herself, Lydia could feel the goosebumps on her arms and under her skin all over. She threw her arms around herself, and tried to grasp tightly to the feeling she had recognized before, the calm in the emptiness that held her solidly in place. She could feel the embrace of it, and it felt like arms. The more she thought about the substance she was touching (or more precisely, that was touching her) the idea shaped itself before her inner eyes, and the landscape shifted.

Stiles noticed the tension for a split second as Lydia's eyelids fluttered from her dreams, and he wondered if she was having a nightmare. He felt her body tighten around his, pulling his center towards hers as she wrapped her small arms around him as far as they would go. He smiled to himself, and squeezed her in return, elated. A small sound escaped his lips, and he could feel the buzzing of his throat at the word and the extension of his diaphragm with the deep breathe he took before releasing it, "Lydia." He whispered it again, cooing into her hair and willing her to stay unconscious just a little while longer.

She could see nothing again, but she could feel everything. A warm, slow pulsing sensation rising...no, beating against her chest, and the familiar feeling of human skin under her fingers. Lydia reached out, catching the shape of a bicep in her open hand and a soft fuzz of hair tickling her fingertips. She leaned into the feeling, outlining the body in front of her with her arms, legs and toes, until she was sure it was really there. She tucked her neck down and opened her lips slightly, feeling a smooth shoulder of soft skin become warm from her breath and touch.  
She could feel the pulsing beat beneath her quicken, and flutter momentarily as she traced her eyelashes over a collarbone and brought her hands up to investigate further.

Stiles struggled to control his body. The effort was enormous, and he could feel his mind losing the battle. As her hands crept slowly over his shoulders, Lydia's face tucked itself perfectly under his chin, her baby soft hair splayed out onto his face and the pillow behind them. Her eyelashes grazed the curve of his neck. His breath hitched, and Stiles closed his eyes, desperate to imprint every instant onto his memory.

She could feel the slight raises in his skin as her fingertips passed over it, shivering softly at her touch. Lydia pressed herself tighter into the body beneath her, closing any gaps she could sense and fitting herself into each curve of his skin. She could never remember feeling so comfortable in all her life, and peaceful. It was only an instant later that she realized she was no longer dreaming. Silently she stayed as she was, finally fully aware that everything she had felt she had actually _felt_. The realization hit her like a freight train, but she gave nothing away, hoping like hell he had also been sleeping as soundly and comfortably as her.

But Stiles noticed. Stiles notices everything. He had slowed his breathing to match hers, and eyes shut softly had counted their heartbeats until they were holding the same rhythm. So it was that when Lydia became conscious, though nothing changed at all, Stiles knew anyway.  
Carefully he kept her pulled tight at his chest, stroking her hair and delicately running his fingers down her spine. Lydia's eyelids fluttered and, her heart picking up speed, she slowly let them open.


	4. It's easy to be happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Lydia wake up together in the hospital

"Mmm" the vibrations made his skin rise, tingling with a soft current. He stared as her huge green eyes, cloudy with sleep, lifted slowly and met his. They watched each other, holding their breath and their gaze until finally one gave in. "Ahem..." Stiles cleared his throat, "uhh..I mean...morning?" His voice was deep and gravelly and it sounded like a question, but he still held her tight and she could feel the words leave his body.

Lydia turned so that her chin rested on his chest, her hands reorienting themselves, one cupping his face the other in his messy brown hair. "Stiles...?" "Yeah..." He murmured into the cinnamon hair still tickling his nose. "Mmm..it's not exactly morning," she whispered, laying her cheek back down on his collarbone and bringing a hand around her head to sweep the chaos of her curls back down from his face. Stiles' eyebrows creased in confusion when he noticed that the moonlight had crept in while they were sleeping.

"Wow, talk about power naps," he chuckled,"how...uhh...how did you sleep?" Stiles asked haltingly, still hardly believing the position he was in, physically and emotionally both, of course. At that she squeezed him again, tucking her right arm back under his own and clutching her hands at his back for a brief moment. He could feel her smile on his skin, even through his plain white tee, and he couldn't suppress his own goofy grin at the thought of Lydia Martin lying on him in a bed.

She yawned, "I slept....I think I slept great, actually. Better than I have in a really long time, in fact." She lifted her head again as she answered him. "Who needs sleeping pills or alcohol when they've got their own personal body pillow?" She quipped, fingering the baby soft hair at the nape of his neck.

"Are you saying I'm better than drugs?" He countered, "Because I'm pretty sure that's not something a girl like you says to...to..." He stuttered, not sure why he was going there and trying to stop himself. "To who? To a guy like you? Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed, poking him lightly in the shoulder, "I don't know why you have such low self esteem, Stiles, it's really...it doesn't fit."

Lydia looked him in the eyes and traced her fingertips over his cheekbone. "H..how do you mean?" He mumbled, distracted by her touch. Was Lydia about to compliment him? That didn't happen every day.

"I mean, there's no reason for it," she replied, her gaze steady and strong as she spoke. "You are by far and away the smartest person I know, not counting myself of course," at that Stiles couldn't help but blush, "and there is not one human being, supernatural or not, that I would trust more with my life." "Lydia..." He tried to interrupt, but her index finger to his lips foiled the attempt. "You are caring, and loyal, and hilarious...I could go on, but I'd run out of breath. Basically shut up, because you're awesome and you need to stop denying it." "I guess I can't argue with the perfect logic of a girl genius," he smirked, raising his arm to brush a stray lock of hair from her brow.

"But Lydia," he continued hesitatingly. "Mhmm?" She breathed softly as she snuggled her face back into the crook of his neck. "If I'm so awesome then..." He struggled with the idea before he could place the words, "then why can't I get it together?" "What's that supposed to mean?" She encouraged him, tracing delicate swirls into the skin of his clavicle with her fingernails. Lydia thought she could feel the blood rushing through his arteries as the tiny goosebumps rose under the pads of her fingers, and she smiled to herself knowing what his body was thinking, even when his mind was somewhere else.

"It just...I just mean that after everything that's happened to us, to all of us, you would think I could finally make some appropriate decisions. Instead I keep following my instincts, leading with my heart instead of my brain, and look where it keeps getting us." He paused, looking around the room and picking up his arm to wave it around in front of them. "Hospital rooms. Graveyards. Abandoned buildings and monster infested woods...it feels like every decision I make is the wrong one. Makes it worse." His last statement dropped to a whisper, and Stiles wondered if maybe he shouldn't have said it. It wasn't like he wanted pity, and he certainly didn't want Lydia to think he was giving up, but he also couldn't help the honesty from tumbling out of his mouth. Lydia did that to him, and he couldn't lie to her.

She didn't even need to think about it, the answer was already there. "Stiles listen to me," she began firmly, twisting up to look into his worried eyes again, "without you, we would all be nowhere. The decisions you make are what save us. Like I've said before, you're always the one who figures it out....whether the choices we're forced to make are good or not, at least we stay together, and we figure it out for good or bad. It's you that binds us." With that she shuffled her body higher up on the bed, and putting her face next to his on the pillow she took his cheek in her left hand, turning his face so that their foreheads were touching.

Stiles let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, hoping that he wouldn't wake up and find it had all been another dream. When he opened them again his heart skipped a beat. Her bright eyes were locked onto his face, a look he couldn't put his finger on but somewhere between concern and amusement coloring her features. He could feel her breath on his mouth and he could hear her heartbeat pounding in his ears, but strangely he wasn't nervous anymore. This was his Lydia, and she was perfect and she was here. With him.

Stiles smiled slowly, crinkling his eyes so she would see it was real. "What's so funny?" She asked, a small pout forming on her mouth. "Oh nothing.." He answered, pulling her closely to him so he could smell the flowery scent of her shampoo, "I guess I just forgot how easy it is to be happy." She couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks for the reminder." "Anytime," she replied, and settled back into his chest like it was shaped just for her, her strawberry tresses playing gently between his fingers.


End file.
